Question of Loyalty
by Zabbie Q
Summary: What do you do when you find your loyalties divided?


Although the lights of the Bad End Palace had kept their constant vigil, no one had stepped foot inside the black domicile until the Emperor of Evil, newly revived, had strode through the threshold. A few well-chosen clicks of the hand had both restored the dark castle to its glory and made ready the Great Hall for the evening's festivities.

In the private chambers of the clown king, Pierrot studied his massive reflection. The violet flames around his black hair cast beams into the looking glass, giving an additional luminescence to the furnished room like a second blaze. His regal attire had been exchanged for the black raiment of an expectant bridegroom.

Hovering in the air at his side, Joker waited at attention like an obedient squire, his limber arms tucked behind his back. Although the youngest member of the king's court, few had proven themselves as useful as the teenage jester in either war or peace, and Pierrot had selected him to be his best man in the imminent ceremony.

"Sixth time's the charm," Pierrot chuckled, flexing his bat-like wings. In his perfect form he had a white face with black lips, a long, narrow torso, and long, narrow limbs. Pierrot smoothed the black fabric of his garment, admiring himself.

"Ah, well," the emperor said. "Snatch up what little happiness you can…"

"...Because despair always comes quickly," Joker finished, giving a deep nod. He had heard the emperor say those words his entire life.

"Bingo." Pierrot tweaked the floating purple orbs that hovered by his ears. "We may not have rained despair upon the universe, but with my bride by my side, I can still provide the world of comfort I promised. After all," he added with a smirk, "I must think of the future little ones, mustn't I?"

Joker swallowed the rise of bile that almost overtook him and set his wide mouth into a smile that revealed two rows of sharp teeth. "You deserve every happiness, Pierrot-sama."

He meant it.

Pierrot had been an intimate companion of despair ever since the day Molière the playwright had penned him. Nearly four centuries had given the Sad Clown unparalleled insight into sorrow and suffering; no other monarch of the Bad End Kingdom could boast of such personal tragedies as Pierrot had underwent through being the whipping boy of any human author trying to make a name for themselves by cashing in on Commedia dell'Arte tropes. It made the clown a cherished treasure to his subjects, who looked to him for hope since he understood their afflictions and offered them comforts and powers. It also made him a deadly foe to anyone who got in his way since kismet had taught him how to turn even the smallest happiness into a horror story. Joker knew only a small fraction of his king's perpetual grievances, but he believed with all his heart that Pierrot had earned the right to any joy he could experience. Even a beautiful wife and children.

However, when Joker's mind wandered to the particular maiden waiting to be claimed by the Emperor of Evil…

He snapped himself out of those dangerous thoughts as his throat constricted. He forced himself to watch the emperor experiment with the flames around his dark hair, using his magic to alter their size and intensity. Finally, Pierrot settled on a gentle but steady blaze which cast a shadow over his forehead like a half-mask.

"This should be fine," Pierrot murmured to his self-satisfied reflection. "After all, it's a small affair, isn't it?"

Joker bowed his head. "True, although an illustrious wedding for a king of your status would hardly be unwelcome in the empire, I should think."

Pierrot chuckled. "When you have lived as long as I have, boy, you'll know that the simplest approach is often the most effective, even in matters of marriage." He adjusted his white ruff. "Besides, my bride no doubt appreciates a quiet ceremony."

Joker made only a small nod.

However, the shape of Pierrot's red eyes shifted in a sideward glance. "You've been unusually quiet, son. Ever since my betrothal," he remarked. "Do you disapprove of my bride?"

Joker stiffened but answered with practiced respect. "I wouldn't dream of contradicting you, sire."

"That isn't what I asked." Pierrot twisted his narrow torso toward him. "I know you've personally fought this girl over these past four years, but can you bend the knee to her for my sake?"

Joker dipped into an aerial bow, low enough that he could hide his face until he could regain control of his twitching features. "Of course I can. You've always had excellent taste, Pierrot-sama. I'm sure she will make a marvelous empress."

"Yes, it was a stroke of genius to include that stipulation in the peace negotiations," Pierrot hummed, but Joker could still feel his king's appraising stare. "I was curious to see how the Precure would handle that peculiar dilemma. Would they refuse and continue the war, possibly causing the deaths of billions, all to play superheroes? Or would they live by their puerile sermons and sacrifice one of their own in the name of protecting smiles?"

Joker bowed lower, an easy enough feat while in flight. "You are wise and cunning in both war and peace, Pierrot-sama."

"Even love and marriage can be useful to one's arsenal. Never forget that, Joker."

"Consider it seared into my memory, Pierrot-sama."

The emperor gave the ruffed cuffs of his black sleeves a final tug. "Well then, I must not keep my lady waiting," he smirked.

Joker drew back to avoid Pierrot's black wings as the emperor turned, and Pierrot snapped his gloved fingers. The mirrors and tapestries disappeared as the two teleported out.

To Joker's surprise, they did not materialize in the Great Hall with the rest of the wedding party, but in the candlelit servants' corridor to the side that led to the kitchens.

Joker cast a glance at his king but bowed. "Shall I announce your entrance?"

"Not yet," Pierrot replied.

The emperor snapped again, and the nearby door slid open on quiet hinges, just wide enough for the two to peer in. The bridal party had already assembled at one end of the Great Hall. Four of the Precure and their little fairy stood in the place of bridesmaids. Cure Peace blinked her misty yellow eyes, and Happy forced a smile for the fairy snuffling into her pink shoulder. Sunny and March cast impotent scowls at anything in the line of their eyesight. Yet none of them could rival the expressions shared among the bride's family, who stood beside their daughter. Until a few hours ago, they had no knowledge of the role the teenage warriors played in the ongoing war. Now mother, father, brother, and grandfather could only watch one of their own be offered up to the Emperor of Evil.

The bride made no noise or movement. She waited beneath the colossal stained-glass window with her blue eyes closed and her slim hands folded.

Pierrot touched his heart. "Look at her, Joker. My future empress," he said, watching the silent young woman. "Truly, she is worthy of the name 'Cure Beauty.' Don't you think?"

Joker's jaw clenched, but he obeyed and looked upon his queen-to-be.

Even from this distance he could see Aoki Reika did her best to keep her breathing even. Once a child soldier, she had blossomed over the past four years into a lady of war. Yet the warrior had exchanged her Smile Pact for a wedding ring to procure peace for untold numbers. A sea-blue _iro uchikake_-style bridal dress hung on her svelte figure, the fabric decorated with images of pink blossoms. No doubt it had belonged to her mother as the bride had little time to prepare after she had consented to Pierrot's suit. Her friends seemed to have used the Cure Décors to spruce it up with sparkling accessories, such as the flowery hairpins styled into her blue hair. Even without a smile or glow upon her gentle features, few princesses of Märchenland could rival Pierrot's new empress.

Joker's appraising gaze lingered on his former enemy, and his heart twisted within his tightened chest. "You've chosen well, Pierrot-sama," he said without emotion, but he had to stop his fingers from flexing into fists.

Pierrot leaned his thin arm against the door frame, still studying his new prize. "Joker, can you guess why I offered a marriage proposal to Beauty and not to Happy or one of the others?" he asked, his baritone adopting a key of amusement.

Joker closed his eyes briefly and tucked his arms behind his back. "Because she is the most beautiful?"

"No. Guess again."

Joker jerked upright and shot him a quick glance. While a clown, Pierrot rarely played games. He often carried himself with an introspective and dignified air, a stark contrast to the melancholic fool portrayed in human literature and paintings. The sly smirk on the emperor's ghost-white face caused Joker to stiffen, and he had to hide the grimace that flitted across his own features.

Joker tugged at the red belt around his neck. "Because she has a pleasing temperament to be your companion?" he offered. "She did compliment you on your poetry."

"No. Guess again."

He swallowed and ran his tongue between his sharp teeth. "Because... she has the intelligence and grace to bring honor to your throne?" he tried.

"No, Joker." Pierrot snapped his fingers again, and the door closed as silently as before.

Joker dropped his gaze to the stone floor. "Then I must apologize. Clearly, my mental faculties are not equal to your own."

"My selection is actually born of one simple motivation," the emperor replied, turning toward the jester with slow steps. "I want Cure Beauty for no other reason than that you want her, Joker."

Joker nearly fell out of the air. "P-Pierrot-sama!" he cried, blanching. "I would never—" But his voice died at a single look from Emperor Pierrot's red eyes.

"Don't — lie — to me," Pierrot growled. "The Emperor of Evil sees more than you think, insect."

Joker shrank back, lifting an arm as a shield, but he felt like an ant protecting itself against a tidal wave.

Pierrot twitched his bat-like wings and advanced after the jester. The sconces flickered as if the small flames themselves trembled with dread.

"I may have been trapped inside an egg for these past four years," Pierrot spoke softly, "but my mind still worked, Joker. In all the times you reported on the failed battles with the Precure, did you think I wouldn't notice how you barely mentioned Cure Beauty?"

Joker collided with the stone wall, causing him to let out a strangled cry. His senses screamed at him to vanish and escape to the other edge of the universe, but he did not dare flee. Pierrot would only find him again and deal him a tenfold agony.

Pierrot's red eyes glowed. "Oh, yes, Joker," he hissed. "You were always quite thorough when you described how the generals lost to Happy or March or Peace or Sunny. But you rarely said a thing about Beauty. Not even to criticize her in anger after you yourself lost duels to her. Which made me think." He tapped his milky chin with an elaborate twitch of his wrist. "Why would a detail-oriented schemer like Joker fail to divulge details about a young, beautiful woman? Because he had an ulterior motive to keep his observations of her a secret."

Joker slunk down the wall, trembling. His curled shoes clapped against the floor as he landed, and he dropped to his knees. His limbs felt like a rag doll's beneath the blaze in Pierrot's stare.

"I swear — I _swear_ I never touched her," he whispered.

"No, but you let your interest in her dilute your loyalty to your king." The violet flames around Pierrot's dark hair jumped higher. "Perhaps you hoped I'd let you claim her as a spoil of war, so you compromised your battles to make sure her looks never tarnished. No, don't answer that," he clipped, holding up a hand as Joker opened his mouth. "I have no interest in hearing your excuses. As you've delayed freeing me from my prison in order to preserve your prize, I can assure you that your lies will be a waste of breath."

Joker gulped. He heard his strangled voice repeat, "I—I never touched her."

A low chuckle fell from Pierrot's black lips. "Oh, I'm not going to kill you, Joker. There will be no bloodshed on my wedding day."

Joker lifted his head to stare at Pierrot only to plunge himself onto his stomach. "Th-Thank you. V-Very much," he stammered, burying his nose into the stone. "S-Such a generous boon, Your Majesty."

"If you think it is," Pierrot replied. "In fact, I want you to live as long as you can, Joker. I simply insist."

Joker pushed himself to his knees. "You do?"

Pierrot made a gliding nod. "It's precisely what you deserve."

Joker blinked. "Pierrot-sama?"

The emperor slid his hand into his flame and drew out a small spark between his thumb and forefinger. He let it roll over the top of his knuckles as if it were a small ball.

"Although I carry the despair of humanity, I am not even four hundred years old yet, Joker. Even so, I can say, categorically, which pain cuts the deepest into a person's soul. One which no fire, poison, or blade can rival." He twisted the flame into his palm and brought it to his chest. "Can you guess what it is?"

"I wouldn't be able to imagine," whispered the jester.

Pierrot squeezed his hand into a fist and pushed it against his heart, and the fire seemed to disappear right into it. Pierrot showed not the slightest discomfort. Rather the blaze in his eyes seemed to intensify.

"The loss of a mate," the emperor replied in a low tone. "I don't mean that silly, shallow mockery of marriage which the Märchenland fairies believe only exists for 'good people.' I mean an actual mate. The one you thought you'd have forever by your side but fails to be there, whether through death or some other means."

Pierrot turned his head toward the closed door. "As a peasant, I had to watch my first bride Charlotte pine for Don Juan," he growled. "As a king, I had to watch Colombina pine for Arlecchino. Humanity found my humiliation and suffering the subject of comedy. But that despair of unrequited devotion is enough to drive any man insane." Pierrot's eyes flicked to meet Joker's bulged ones. His mouth stretched. "And it's yours to relish for eternity, little jester."

Joker swallowed and shrank back against the wall, still on his knees.

Pierrot spread his arms wide. "So, enjoy it. Enjoy bowing to your new queen. Enjoy seeing her in the arms of another man. Enjoy serving the children she will give to your lord. Enjoy coveting what you will never possess. Enjoy your marvelous Bad End, traitor."

Joker shivered. "I — I— " he tried, but for once in his life he could think of nothing to say. He pressed his hands together in a silent plea.

Pierrot scoffed at him. He spun away, his curled shoes making no sounds as he stepped toward the door. Pierrot reached for the handle, but he paused one final time. He looked over his shoulder and smirked.

"You should've enjoyed what happiness you could have found with her," he said, "because despair always comes quickly."

Pierrot twisted the handle and flung the door wide. As if by magic, the opening seemed to stretch, revealing the whole gaping wedding party and giving Joker an unobstructed view of the blue-haired beauty who stared in surprise at her approaching groom.

Even when alarmed, she looked lovely.

Pierrot strode toward her, commanding and confident. He stopped beside Reika, dwarfing her with his towering frame. Then, without even waiting for the ceremony to start, Pierrot swept his empress into his arms and kissed her.

The rest of the bridal party gasped. Reika's eyes widened, but the longer her fiancé held her against him, the more relaxed she grew until she leaned into Pierrot with a look of pure bliss.

The ground seemed to fall away from beneath Joker's knees, but he could not tear his eyes away from them—from her.

Although Reika's lips remained locked with her groom's, Joker could have sworn he heard her calling his name.

"_Joker_, _Joker…_"

* * *

A soft pat on the cheek forced Joker back into reality. He jerked awake and found himself staring into an inverted image of Reika's concerned blue eyes. It took him a moment to remember where he was, but a glance about told him he laid on his back on the Aoki's engawa in the side yard, just outside of Reika's bedroom. His head rested on her soft lap, and one of her hands still touched the tapered end of his large ear. He must have dozed off under the gentle massage of her delicate fingers, listening to her dulcet voice read her favorite poems.

Joker swung himself into a sitting position, crossing his limber legs. "Afternoon already?" he chirped, faking a smile as he stared up at the sunny sky.

Still in her formal _seiza_ position, Reika scooted on her knees closer to him. She touched his wrist. "You were groaning like you were having a nightmare."

Joker quirked the eye holes of his magical mask into a look of surprise. "Was I? I can't remember," he lied, pushing against the pointed cover on his long nose.

Reika gave him that steady gaze. She was a short, blue-haired girl, a few months into her third year of middle school — _Not an eighteen-year-old bride_, he reminded himself with a sense of relief — and she had an observant, acute mind which he had admired even when they were foes. Her lips thinned a little at his blatant falsehood, but instead of acting hurt, affection appeared in her soft eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, slipping her smooth fingers around his lean ones.

Joker rubbed his colorful hair, pretending to think. "Hmmm, I would, but I've already forgotten it," he said. He knew she could see through his subterfuge, but he couldn't tell her about... that dream. Not ever. He glanced at the covering over the engawa. "Something about takoyaki and Sweden. Just a silly dream."

She furrowed her brows, but Joker pressed her hand.

"Don't worry about me," he chirruped.

She formed a tiny smile. "You know I can't help that." She firmed her gentle grip. "I'd imagine," she continued, slowly, "that with all you've seen in the Bad End Kingdom, your subconscious has much fodder for nightmares."

He wagged a finger at her. "Ah, ah, ah! It's illegal to practice psychology without a license, you know." He leaned in close, wearing a devilish grin. "Maybe deep down, you're a bad girl at heart," he added in a throaty key. "No wonder I find you so alluring."

Her cheeks flushed a pretty rose pink, but she did not look away. "Well, if you do want to talk," she said quietly, "you know I'll listen."

"A sentiment I appreciate," he hummed. He lightly pushed aside her straight blue bangs before he climbed to his feet. "I must stretch my legs. Don't mind me."

He saluted her before he sprung from the terrace in a carefree leap, using his powers of flight to turn it into several aerial back flips. He finally alighted on the largest of the stones that lined the Aokis' private pond. Joker made a show of twisting his long limbs into a few stretches before he hopped onto the grass, adopting a lazy gait. Out of the corner of his mask's eye hole, he could see Reika still watching him, her open book forgotten beside her.

He once more saw her arrayed in her blue bridal garments — along with the possessive kiss Emperor Pierrot had planted upon her.

_If Pierrot-sama finds out, it won't be marriage that he'll have on his mind_, he thought with a shudder.

He knew he ought not to have let things get this far. When he first approached Reika, it had been shortly after their duel in the Bad End Kingdom. She had bested him and had been a keystone in undoing Pierrot's revival. Joker's initial response had been to seek revenge against the shrimp of a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl, but on further reflection, he had considered her potential. A warrior like her could be useful. If he could not beat her, he would convince her to join the better side.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He approached her in the privacy of her room but at a time when her family was home, thus making her reluctant to transform and fight him. He laid on his charms and faked humility, even going so far as to sit while she stood, a trick to give her a subconscious sense of control over the situation. He complimented her as a warrior and a scholar. He appealed to her conscience and compassion. She had seen for herself a small portion of the Bad End Kingdom, so he described the difficulty to forage for food without magical aid. Once a look of sympathy replaced the baleful mistrust in her pretty eyes, he switched to detailing the wonderful boons Emperor Pierrot had bestowed upon his loyal subjects, giving them powers to slake their misery and promising a world of comfort in the future. Joker then slipped in a few hints of how Reika could enjoy such marvelous comforts if she were one of Pierrot's warriors.

Unfortunately, Reika proved to be immovable in her odd morals. But she listened. She asked questions. She challenged his logic. She scrutinized the evidence he offered for his claims. Then she asked if he would like a refreshment. As Joker sipped the tea she had prepared for him, he congratulated himself on his cunning ploy, certain he could wear down her childish ethics and show her why aiding Märchenland would only bring her pain.

He visited her again. And again. Reika told the Precure about their encounters. Her friends warned her not to trust him, and she agreed. But she also grew a little more relaxed each time he materialized beside her. He started to like her bright smile. He discovered she liked poetry; he shared with her some of the famous sonnets Pierrot had written in his youth. They played cards, and Reika proved herself clever enough to figure out the secret rules of the Game of Mao. She invited him for walks, and he entertained her with the illusions he created, earning more glimpses of that charming smile.

He had her right where he wanted her.

At least, that's what he told himself.

And he continued to tell himself that right until he happened to pick up a playing card to check on her and discovered all the Precure had been cast for a scene in a period monster film. When his pulse spiked to see Reika dressed as a princess, he knew he had gone too far. But the damage was irreversible.

When Reika did not pull away the day he leaned in to claim her first kiss, Joker knew she suffered from the same damage.

_But it's only a matter of time before Pierrot-sama finds out_, he told himself as he gazed up at the clear sky above the Aoki property.

The Bad Energy Memory had only a few ticks left until Pierrot's second revival. The Emperor of Evil would descend upon Earth to destroy it and continue on through the macrocosm of existence until he achieved his vengeance. The Precure would be destroyed, with Reika alongside them. Unless Joker made a move to preserve her.

But he would not be able to do that without Pierrot guessing his intentions. The emperor might have been a clown, but he was no fool.

Joker closed his eyes. His stomach clenched, and he drew in a discreet breath to calm it.

Arlecchino, the Harlequin himself, had been Pierrot's closest and most trusted ally, but he betrayed the emperor over a forbidden lover and suffered a fate that still made the surviving witnesses of his execution shiver. What would Pierrot do should he ever find out that yet another trusted subject—one who had grown up in his own palace—had failed him over the forbidden?

Worse than even Joker could imagine.

So, what could he do?

A rustle on the grass behind him brought him out of his thoughts, and quiet footsteps drew near. In moments a soft hand once again slipped into his own, and Reika laid her head against his arm. He could sense her unabated concern, but she thankfully said nothing. She only leaned against him, silently reminding him that she was there if he needed her.

Still holding her slim paw, he looped her arm in front of her until his own wrapped around her shoulders, and he pulled her against him. Her other hand came up to lay atop his, and she snuggled against his side. Although her friends joked about her being the object of many a schoolboy's infatuation, Joker had been the first to enjoy her affections. While reserved and still a little shy at times, she had grown comfortable with his embrace these past few months. Despite the unease slithering through his insides, Joker enjoyed the warmth and weight of her form against him.

_Snatch up what little happiness you can_, he mused with a grave smile, _because despair always comes quickly_.

THE END

* * *

A/N:

This started out as an idea for a one-panel comic I wanted to do where Pierrot kisses Beauty's hand while Joker clutches his chest like he's having a heart attack. It would've playfully been called "Joker's Nightmare" (and whether Jokarei is your OTP or NOTP, we can all agree he wouldn't want Beauty being Pierrot's empress, haha). My correspondent, Anita10 on Ficbook, suggested writing it as a fic and have Joker wake up from the nightmare. While some people find the "All Just a Dream" trope anti-climatic, I wanted to experiment with it to show how Joker's subconscious would respond to his divided loyalties if he had been in a secret relationship with a Precure.

What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Constructive feedback is welcome!

_Pierrot's poetry_ — While Commedia dell'Arte characters have undergone different interpretations depending upon the writer/artist, one consistent trait for Pierrot is his passion for poetry. (In the one-act play, "Matinata" by Lawrence Langner, Pierrot sells a song for enough money to take Columbine on a romantic trip.) As Reika has Takamura Koutarou's poem "Journey" memorized in Ep. 16, and if you imagine Joker being raised to like Pierrot's poetry, they have something to talk about and bond over.


End file.
